


The Benefit of Blood

by junko



Series: Chasing Demons [48]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:19:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of discovering Renji's long lost "brother" and his involvement in the murder of a shinigami in the Sixth Division, Byakuya and Renji talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Benefit of Blood

They’d gone directly back to the Division after seeing Renji’s brother in the guardhouse. Kinjo, the Seven Seat, had been waiting for them at the office and delivered a full report of the ambush. Kinjo’s words had painted a very grim picture, indeed. Byakuya could almost hear Renji’s teeth grinding through the description of the whole messy debacle.

It seemed that their Eleventh Seat Fujimoto had been beaten to death.

Not a single assailant had been armed with anything more than sticks and other found items. Their advantage, it appeared, had been in surprise and sheer volume of numbers. If Kinjo’s assessment was correct Fujimoto hadn’t had time to clear her zanpakutō from its scabbard before a hail of rocks and stones battered her senseless enough for the marauders to finish the job.

The tragedy was that it could have happened to the best of them. Without much spiritual pressure, the attackers were nearly undetectable until they were already upon them. It was a deviously clever use of their disadvantage.

It was disgusting to imagine a shinigami so hideously mistreated by those she’d sworn to protect. At least the squad had managed to capture not only the Abarai involved, but also several of his comrades. With so many to interview, the Second would get to the bottom of this and, eventually, justice would be served.

Renji’s face had grown harder and harder during the whole recitation of the events of the ambush. He was taut enough by the end of it, that Byakuya had quickly sent the Seventh Seat away, ostensibly to follow the prisoners’ transfer and to make his report to Captain Soi Fon as well. But, truthfully, Byakuya had sensed some underlying tension between Kinjo and Renji; it had seemed best to separate them before Renji snapped.

He and Renji had stayed the night in the office to take care of all the Division business that came with such an unfortunate incident. Byakuya had thought that busy work might soothe Renji a little, but, if anything, dealing with the details made things worse.

Renji found Fujimoto’s promotion papers in the stack and laid it on the desk in front of Byakuya. “What’s the policy on this?” He asked, his voice strained and tired. “Award post mortem? Or is that… I don’t know… tacky? Thing is, her family could use the better pension. She is, er, damn it, was the sole support of a bunch of siblings out….”

What remained unspoken and heavy in the air between them was ‘in the Rukongai.’

The irony was almost crushing.

Byakuya set his brush down to look up at Renji. Renji stared, hard, at the document on the desk between them. Though he’d changed back into full uniform, his hair was still braided as though for bed. Bits of the crimson locks stuck out at each twist and several long strands had come loose to hang in front of his face, which only added to his beaten, defeated look.

“Renji, you should go to bed,” Byakuya offered, and not for the first time. The sun was just starting to lighten the sky, and they’d been at this all night. “You’re of no use to anyone in this state.”

Renji didn’t move. His head remained bowed. “She’s dead because of him. I have to….” He stopped. His mouth worked for a long time, saying nothing. Then, with a deep breath he lifted his head. There was an intensity in his eyes that always reminded Byakuya of being pinned under the alien gaze of a wolf. “I should make my own report to the Second.”

“No one can expect you to inform on your own family, Renji,” Byakuya said sincerely. “I’m quite certain, in fact, that the Punishment Squad has a much better sense of who your brother has become in the intervening years, given that he was a lodger of theirs for so long. Stop torturing yourself. It’s unnecessary.”

Renji grunted and said flatly: “Seichi passed me a secret.”

“What? When?” Byakuya was startled by this confession. He’d been present during the entire interaction, “How?”

“That’s just it,” Renji groaned, turning his glare to the door as though wishing to escape through it. “I ought to turn myself in too. I’m in violation of the uniform code of military justice statute twenty-seven, article nine, subseries ‘d’: ‘No officer of the Gotei Thirteen shall engage in criminal behavior, including but not limited to the use or expression of secret or illegal languages, particularly those outlawed by Soul King’s decree….’”

It was always impressive the extent to which Renji had memorized the regulations, but Byakuya didn’t understand. “But, I never heard you or your brother speak _ingo_ or even use particularly uncommon Inuzuri slang.”

Renji still wouldn’t meet Byakuya’s eyes. “Hand cant,” he said simply.

Despite himself, Byakuya was sure the shock showed on his face, if only for a moment. The confession of even knowing hand cant was tantamount to admitting to being a member of organized crime. Because of that, the punishment was unreasonably severe. Once Byakuya managed to compose himself, he set aside the paperwork. “I see, and what was this secret Seichi found so important to risk so much?”

“He said I shouldn’t let him be taken to the Second because—well,” Renji made a quick series of symbols with his fingers that looked not unlike the beginning of a complicated kidō incantation. “It means, ‘gathering,’ but with this added—“ he made a fist in demonstration, “--it’s more like ‘collective action’ or ‘revolution.’ I figured he was telling me that the revolution would fail if he was forced to give up information.”

There were so many things about this turn in their conversation that disturbed Byakuya profoundly. Not the least of which was that the criminal underclass apparently had a reason to have a sign for ‘collective action’ and/or revolution.

Byakuya had always assumed the bulk of the words involved in their various secret languages described the day-to-day details of running a scam or trading in illegal goods. It did not bode well that there existed several complex expressions for acts of sedition against their sovereign rulers.

Perhaps this was why it was specifically outlawed by the Soul King himself.

Byakuya found it similarly distressing that Renji was intimately familiar with such terms. This was a new layer to Renji’s Inuzuri past that was very, very unseemly. “Why, may I ask, did your brother presume you were a sympathetic audience to such information?”

Renji winced. “I might have led him to think I’d help him out when I told him to show you some respect.”

Ah, that explained the surprising deference and obedience. It was disappointing to hear that the brother’s behavior had been coached. It had engendered an amount sympathy that Byakuya felt quickly evaporating. “How extensive was this conversation you had? Do you know what he’s referring to? Do you know what this ‘revolution’ of his is about?”

Renji gave Byakuya a sidelong glance that seemed to imply that the answer should be obvious. “Usual stuff I suspect,” Renji shrugged. “Anyway, I should tell the Second. It’s motive for the attack if nothing else.”

“You will not tell the Second,” Byakuya snapped. Soi Fon could be reasonable, but she also had an acute obsession with proving her value to the ruling classes. Byakuya neither trusted Renji not to confess to everything, nor that Soi Fon wouldn’t gleefully pounce on an opportunity to further her own ambitions. “We will use proper chain of command, Renji. You told me; I will tell her.”

Shaking his head, Renji’s mouth became a thin line. “I hate this. I should go, tell them everything, and just deal with the fall out. Protecting me like this seems like such a bad idea. It could blow up in so many ways.” He chewed on the end of his braid for a moment before spitting it out. Seeking Byakuya’s eyes again, he added, “Kinjo noticed, you know. He’d been looking for me and found me in your bedroom barely dressed. Plus, he’s got an axe to grind. He wanted you to throw the book at me for desertion. Everybody thinks I got off easy, and, honestly, they’re not wrong about that. Anyway, Kinjo might be stupid, but he can put two and two together.”

So this was what was between them. In one way, it was better than Byakuya’s first assumption: that they were ex-lovers. In another, it was worse. “You really believe one of my soldiers would accuse their captain of fraternization at a time like this? You think this Kinjo would wish for another division to be bereft of its top command right now? Losing both of us to court martial would be massively destabilizing to the entire Gotei Thirteen.”

“Yeah, well, I said he could add,” Renji said, his eyes sliding away again. “I didn’t say he was smart. That’s what makes him dangerous. He’s after me and not thinking about you or the Division or the Soul Society at large. Look, maybe we can avoid the whole thing if you’d just let me go to the Second--”

“No!”

Byakuya found himself standing. He’d shot to his feet, fists clenched at his side, his heart pounding.

He had to take a long, steady breath to stop his hands from shaking.

Renji was gaping at him. Obviously, he didn’t understand the reaction. But, Byakuya had seen this scenario played out far too often in the past. Renji thought _he_ had people with vendettas against him, but they were minor compared the grudges many, even some inside the Court Guard, had against the Kuchiki name.

No doubt Renji thought he would protected as a shinigami. In the eyes of the law, he should be. But if he confessed to knowing hand cant and one of these parties got wind of it, they could strip him of his rank and invoke _dataki_. Without the shield of rank, Renji could be treated as a commoner and could face up to a hundred lashes. Renji was strong, but that would kill him. That much damage could kill anyone. Byakuya had seen it happen.

Byakuya, meanwhile, was protected not only by rank but by birth. No one would ever be allowed to raise a hand to a Kuchiki, no matter what the crime. Only the very, very worst would result in the expectation of _seppuku_ , which by its nature was self-administered.

No one could touch him, ever.

This was part of what caused so much hatred, so many attempts to hurt by any means necessary.

If they were careful about it, nothing would come of it. Even a public charge of harboring a subordinate with past knowledge of a criminal language would be a small thing for Byakuya to bear. Even if Soi Fon was feeling particularly vindictive she could ask for no more than a fine, and there were limits on that. More importantly, it would be based on the value of Renji’s life--which, honestly, even as a ranked shinigami, was nothing much at all. They could never levy a fine of any substance for him. Renji simply wasn’t worth it.

Perhaps… perhaps Byakuya could understand the desire for revolution at this moment. Because there was hardly a price he wouldn’t pay for Renji. To Byakuya, Renji was worth all the gold in heaven and so much more.

Byakuya turned to the wall and tried to compose himself. “I’ll hear no more talk of this. This is a direct order, Lieutenant: you may only admit to your knowledge of hand cant if directly asked by someone who outranks me.”

“Hai, Taicho,” Renji said, though his voice was soft, barely audible.

Byakuya turned around, and settled himself back down carefully, deliberately. Renji’s head was bowed again, and he stared into his lap. Strands of loose hair fell in a straight line in front of his face. It was heartbreaking to see him like this. “I’m sorry, Renji,” Byakuya said, wishing he could reach out and offer a hand to hold. “But I have my reasons. You must trust me in this.”

“I get it,” Renji said, still talking to his lap. “It’s not like I don’t know how serious this is. I’ve seen people go down for it.”

Byakuya nodded. He reached over to ring for the servants. If they had to stay up longer, he needed a good, strong tea. “Tell me everything you and your brother said. I need to be able to make a detailed report to Soi Fon.”

Renji glanced up and lifted his shoulder slightly. “It was a pretty boring conversation until the end. His first sign was the one that signals that it’s understood that you can’t speak freely for whatever reason. I didn’t really answer that because I didn’t think it was true, but when you came over I…” Renji’s cheeks colored a little at the memory. “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I got worried he’d be his usual jackass self and say something stupid to make things worse. So I told him to play it cool. I signed to him to treat you like a big time oyabun, a boss’s boss. Then, when you talked about sending him to the Second he freaked out and gestured he couldn’t go down for it because the rebellion would fail.”

“So he has critical information. Do you think he’s their ringleader?” Byakuya asked. 

Renji laughed. “Seichi?” Pulling his hair away from his face, he held his hands against the side of his head for a moment considering it. “I don’t know. Maybe. The guy I knew always talked a big talk about pulling the long con, but he didn’t have the savvy to make a go, you know what I mean?”

Byakuya thought he might. Aio appeared at the door, and Byakuya ordered tea and breakfast for them both. To Renji he said, “But after we eat, I want you in bed. Sleeping,” Byakuya added quickly, realizing how that must sound otherwise. He straightened the hem of his sleeve, fighting down a blush. “Do you really think the Seventh Seat will make a charge against us?”

Renji sighed. “I sure as hell hope not. We got no chance of fighting it. All anyone’d have to do is ask your staff.”

The staff could, if absolutely necessary, be replaced--if merely temporarily, “Any others?”

“Well, the Third Seat tied himself in knots trying to make out that I was with Rukia at the estate all the time.”

A lot of people would believe that, Byakuya supposed--especially after the recent trouble. Byakuya would never stoop to using his own sister as a cover outright, but given that she lived at the estate as well, it would be very easy to imagine Renji’s nocturnal visits were to her. The two of them were known to have been an item in the past. It would be the default assumption, really. At least any accusers would have an uphill battle in that regard.

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “I kind of told Ichigo outright in a drunken stupor, and, ah, shit, Rikichi was there that night. Yeah, and Rukia, of course, too.”

Byakuya wracked his brain but came up empty, “Rikichi?”

Renji gave an embarrassed half-smile. “You know the kid that follows me around all the time? He’s got beads in his hair and brow tats.”

“Ah yes, of course. Unseated, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Renji agreed.

Things weren’t so dire, after all. They had been foolishly indiscrete in the Human World, but perhaps some misdirection could satisfy any official inquiry here. Luckily, the idea that the head captain would even entertain such a thing during wartime was ludicrous, especially given the drastic losses the Gotei had already suffered. Even if the Seventh Seat dared name his own captain and lieutenant, they would never face charges until after the dust settled with Aizen.

That was, of course, so long as Renji didn’t blurt out the truth at the first sign of trouble. Byakuya smiled fondly at him, “Do I need to order you not to tell anyone about us, as well?”

Renji looked shocked. “No, sir,” he said quickly.

“I’m not asking you to lie, Renji,” Byakuya said. “If you’re asked, you must do what your conscience demands, but I would hope for discretion on your part.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Please,” Byakuya said raising a hand. “I mean that as a tease, a gentle reminder as your lover. It’s not really an order, Renji. I can’t do that.”

“Oh… right,” Renji agreed with a little nod, but he didn’t seem convinced. 

Byakuya frowned. Did Renji really think he would abuse his power this way, to bully him into silence? It was one thing when it involved Court Guard business, but another when it was about their relationship.

Renji’s response was troublesome to say the least. 

Thinking back, it was disturbing to Byakuya to realize that it was entirely possible that Renji may have not been entirely… willing at the start. From the very first kiss there were reasons Byakuya felt comfortable in continuing his pursuit, but, there had, in fact, been orders issued.

Dear gods.

Byakuya shook his head to banish the horror creeping up his spine. Renji had made plenty of his own overtures, some very explicit. It wasn’t like _that_ —at least, not any more. But, it suddenly occurred to Byakuya that, perhaps, he’d been unthinking—that he’d let himself forget how it must be for Renji, to have his commander as a lover.

He should have noticed. 

Despite the offer months ago, Renji almost never called him by his name. It was always Taicho. ‘Sir,’ lingered in their interactions, even in intimate, private moments. Byakuya had come to love that, to regard it as a term of endearment. Perhaps it wasn’t as good a thing as he’d thought.

There was a polite knock on the door. Breakfast and tea had arrived, and hot on Aio’s heels came a frantic Rukia. “Nii-sama!” she shouted, and then her eyes took in the whole scene. Seeing Renji brought visible relief to her face, “Oh, Renji! Thank gods!”

Renji had been starting to stand for the arrival of the tea and Rukia nearly bowled him over in a huge bear hug.

“But,” she said, searching Renji’s face in confusion, “They’re saying you were involved in some murder in the Rukongai.”

“No,” Byakuya explained, standing up and gesturing for Aio to bring in the breakfast tray and to fetch another cup of tea and a plate for Rukia, “Another Abarai. Your... brother, Seichi.”

Renji glanced over his shoulder at Byakuya, “Seichi was before Rukia’s time, sir. She doesn’t know him.”

That was a relief. But there was that pesky ‘sir’ again. Byakuya supposed it was entirely appropriate in the office, but he disliked the automatic sound of it suddenly. 

Byakuya turned away slightly to give them their privacy. Despite having found out Renji was safe, Rukia seemed unwilling to let Renji go. Renji had likewise gratefully wrapped himself around her and bowed his head towards her, the loose strands of his hair spilling onto the top of her head. A tiny pang of jealousy stabbed Byakuya. He could almost feel their love for one another radiating out in their reiatsu, and they were so comfortable together, like siblings should be.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever hugged Rukia. Certainly, they’d never clung to each other like that, like they were the only thing keeping the other afloat in a stormy sea.

Perhaps he ought to order Renji to hold him the same way, Byakuya thought bitterly.

Eventually, they separated and Byakuya was able to invite Rukia to stay for breakfast. “Please, I insist,” he said, when she tried to decline, “I’ve already sent for an extra setting.”

She looked around at the office, “But you’re doing business. I should never have burst in like this. I was just so worried.”

“It’s understandable,” Byakuya said, indicating that they should all sit down. Aio had set the tray away from the desk, near one of the many bookshelves, in a spot they often ate when they stayed late. “It does concern me somewhat, Rukia, that you or someone you spoke to would make the assumption of Renji’s guilt in a murder of one his own.”

“It’s not without precedent, Taicho,” Renji said glumly. “My jailbreak caused a lot of damage.”

“But no casualties. An important distinction,” Byakuya noted. The tea was beginning to smell good, but he actively resisted pouring any out of politeness. It was difficult to restrain himself, however. He could feel a headache starting to build up behind his eyes. He hoped Aio would hurry with that third cup. “Do we need to relocate to my quarters?” Byakuya asked, unsuccessfully trying to contain snippiness. “I would have you dispense with the titles when we’re among family, Renji.”

“Oh! Uh, sorry, s--…. Sorry,” Renji said, with a glance at Rukia, like he was surprised by this request.

Rukia stepped in to explain, “Of course I didn’t think Renji was guilty, nii-sama! I didn’t realize there were any other Abarais still alive. It was just the two of us when we left for Academy.”

“Garbage run,” Renji told her.

“What’s this?” Byakuya asked, hating the way Rukia nodded in instant understanding.

“Seichi got nabbed being out of district,” Renji said, peeking under the baskets. Byakuya was able to catch sight of baked salmon that threatened to cause his stomach to growl. Renji continued his inspection of breakfast, and said, “When things were bad, a bunch of us would form a large pack and go up a couple of districts to raid garbage heaps for scraps. It was a long standing tradition in the district. It’s part of how we got saddled with the whole stray dog name. We were always getting chased out of other people’s alleys.”

“I see, and Seichi was arrested during one of these illegal forays?” Byakuya asked, just to make sure he understood. “You were forced to leave him behind?”

“Yeah,” Renji looked miserable about it, too. Rukia reached over and gave his thigh a sympathetic squeeze. 

Finally, Aio appeared at the door with a small tray for Rukia. Byakuya picked up the tea pot and poured for Renji. “And you thought your brother would still be imprisoned after all this time?”

“It’s a life sentence,” Renji explained.

Byakuya couldn’t entirely contain his gasp of surprise.

Renji nodded in understanding. “Yeah, but think about it. If the punishment wasn’t severe, nobody would stay in Inuzuri.”

“Some people used to talk about trying to get caught, thinking it meant shelter and food,” Rukia said, holding out her bowl as Byakuya filled it. “But, it’s hard labor and water rations.”

But… if the person was desperate enough to be sifting through refuse for something to eat, they must have enough spiritual pressure to feel hunger pangs. “That’s cruel,” Byakuya realized.

Renji shrugged, “Eh, that’s just the way it is.”

And why, Byakuya thought with a shudder, revolution was fomenting.

**Author's Note:**

> I made up the term and usage of 'hand cant,' but _ingo_ is a real secret language spoken by the Japanese criminal underclass that still exists today, though many of its words have Edo Period origins. 
> 
> The punishment of _dataki_ is also real and is basically a public flogging. But, as Byakuya describes, it had different rules for different social classes. Samurai (thus, here, shinigami,) were, in fact, exempt.


End file.
